


Without Him

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Character Death, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Loss, M/M, Memories, Revenge, Torture, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 04:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21247181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Rufus had always thought that he’d known just how dark he could get. That he had been forced to explore the deepest depths of how cruel he could be under Jiemma’s guidance in the old Sabertooth, but right now as he stared down at the man responsible for taking Freed from him, he realised that he had barely scratched the surface. T





	Without Him

_Freed was gone._

Objectively Rufus knew that was the truth, and some cold, rational part of him knew that it was true. But, that part of him was distant and lost beneath the shattered remnants of what had been his heart, or at least that was what he thought the awful, jagged sensation in his chest was as he glanced at the blood dried on his hands. The last traces of the life that he had tried and failed to save, and he ran a trembling thumb over one of the larger smears, vision blurring for a moment.

_ Freed was shuddering beneath his touch, even his best efforts to be gentle a lost cause in the face of the damage that had been done to his partner, and Rufus hated himself even as he forced himself to keep touching. To press down, frantically trying to stop the blood that was still welling up from the deepest gash across the Rune Mage’s chest, knowing that it wasn’t going to be enough, that there were too many wounds for him to cover like this, stomach rolling as he felt the blood on his skin._

Rufus shook his head, opening eyes that he couldn’t remember closing, and letting his gaze shift back to the reason that he was back here in the place that now held his worst memories, a snarl on his lips as he stared at the writhing form of the ground that was stained with Freed’s blood. He looked like nothing. Once pristine clothes, now torn and tattered and speckled with blood after hours at Rufus’ mercy. His face contorted with pain and fear, the voice that had mocked him as he’d laid trapped, unable to stop them as they dragged Freed away, reduced to a broken, croak as endless pleas for mercy fell from bloody lips. As though if he said it often enough, the words would have an impact, when all they were doing right now was fanning the cold blaze of Rufus’ rage.

He’d always thought that he’d known just how dark he could get. That he had been forced to explore the deepest depths of how cruel he could be under Jiemma’s guidance in the old Sabertooth, but right now as he stared down at the man responsible for taking Freed from him, he realised that he had barely scratched the surface. There was a brief flicker of something behind the numbness then, an awareness at least, that he should be bothered by that realisation. That he should be bothered by the death he had meted out to the others involved, and in what he had done so far to the man in front of him. But he wasn’t. Maybe, it was because he was numb to everything right now, feeling as though there was a barrier between him and the rest of the world, a mirror that could only let him see what had happened.

What he had lost.

_“What are you reading?” He asked, leaning over the back of the armchair and pressing a kiss to the top of Freed’s head, before eyeing the pages that the Rune Mage was studying. He had no memory of the language it was written in, that looked halfway between his partner’s elegant runes and chicken scratch. However, his interest was short-lived as Freed peered up at him with the smile that he loved so much._

_“A book,” Freed teased, mischief dancing in his eyes and Rufus scowled at him, before shaking his head._

_“I can see that,” he retorted, leaning in to kiss Freed’s forehead, feeling his partner lean into the contact and using the momentary distraction to snatch the book away. Knowing that he had only succeeded because Freed had let him and smiling as Freed made a noise of protest before rising and trying to snatch the book back, allowing Rufus to grab him and pull him in for a proper kiss._

What they had taken from him.

“Be quiet,” he snapped, realising that the mage was still pleading with him. The sound dragging him out of the memory of happier times and reminding him of how Freed had sounded at the end, his voice a broken, ruined echo of itself. “Memory Make: Blood of the Fallen,” he whispered, hands moving with a steadiness he wasn’t sure he felt, trying not to notice how the glyphs that flickered to life bore the same deep purple of Freed’s magic before they rushed towards the mage who howled in agony as the spell struck him.

It was a slow spell. One that lasted for minutes, not seconds, even before Rufus cast it a second and then a third time, voice growing louder and colder with each repetition. There was no expression on his face at this point, the grief that had welled up with the memory locked tight now, hidden behind a blank mask. He didn’t let himself show any of the hatred or fury that had taken root in his chest, no pang of sympathy even as a small voice that sounded eerily like his partner asked what he was doing and how far he was going to take this. He didn’t even let himself show a spark of satisfaction as he listened to his victim’s screams, the man’s body twisting and turning against the bloody floor as wounds slowly opened up on every inch of his body.

Wounds that had been perfectly memorised four days before when he had finally managed to track Freed to this place, still hoping against hope that he was going to be in time. A hope that had been crushed when he had found his partner abandoned in this very room, holding on just for the chance to say goodbye.

_ It’s not enough,_ he thought bitterly. He had hunted them down. Torn them apart and brought the ringleader. The mage that had put him out of the fight, and taken Freed from him back to this place, wanting him to feel the same pain that he had inflicted on Freed, the same fear of not being found in time, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough he was beginning to realise, as he glanced down, unsteady now as his vision wavered again and for a moment all he could see was green hair splayed against grey and red. Unable to forget the tears that had stained Freed’s face, or the distant look in the turquoise eyes as his partner had tried desperately to focus on him, fingers curled around his, as he’d tried to speak. To say everything that they’d never have enough time to say in a voice ruined by screaming, which had faded to a whisper and then a sigh as he’d slipped away in that very spot.

“You’re a m-monster.” The spell had weakened as his mind wandered, and the mage had taken advantage of that momentary distraction, rolling onto his side and curling protectively in on himself as he fought for breath, still sobbing and whimpering even as he attempted to glare up at Rufus. A spark of defiance in his expression now and Rufus was almost relieved to see it. Or maybe, pleased, because it meant that there was something left for him to destroy. Something that he could break, in the same way, that the mage had broken Freed, and in turn him. Rufus

stared at him for a moment, the blank expression finally giving way to something darker as a smirk tugged at his lips, before replying softly, his fingers moving to his temple once more.

“Yes, I am…”

_Without him…_


End file.
